To Hell And Back
by NotYourDamsel
Summary: When Hatake Kakashi was born, the Clan Head knew immediately there was something special about him. They just didn't know what. That was until he came back, bloody and scarred with a child no older than one he has claimed as Pack, left eye spinning impossibly with the Uchihas' prized Sharingan and chakra all but snarling at anyone who dared to make the slightest of shifts.


**Summary**: When Hatake Kakashi was born, the Clan Head knew immediately there was something special about him. They just didn't know what. That was until he came back, bloody and scarred with a child no older than one he has claimed as Pack, left eye spinning impossibly with the Uchihas' prized Sharingan and chakra all but snarling at anyone who dared to make the slightest of shifts.

Or

The time where Team 7 gets thrown back in the Warring Clans' Era, Kakashi Doesn't Give a Shit, Sasuke is So Done with This Shit, Sakura Doesn't Know Shit, and Naruto undeniably Gets Into Shit. Kurama's torn between laughing at them all, and asking his father what he'd done to Deserve This Shit.

**Warnings**: Timetravel, AU, Team 7's Shenanigans, Slash, Het, Language, General Ninja Violence, Clans' Shenanigans, A/B/O-ish Dynamics, KakaObi, Future Pairings (undecided), etc.

**Disclaimer**: If I owned Naruto, Obito would live after the war and marry Kakashi, Neji wouldn't die and live with Tenten, Itachi would come out of the fucking grave and have his much-needed hug from Sasuke, Naruto would end up with Sasuke, and the rest of the female populations of Konoha and the Land of Fire would be fujoshis.

* * *

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When Hatake Kakashi was born, it was on a cold September evening, in a small man-made hut in the outskirts of the Land of Fire.

His parents were on the run, the Western Compound of their clan set aflame from an enemy—Shimura, Hyuuga, Uchiha—they didn't know, but all they knew was that they had to warm him up before their young pup dies.

It would be too risky to light a fire, the light and smoke would give their positions away, and they were too far to signal for their fellow clanmates; too close to the borders for comfort, their backs all but bared for the other countries to leap on. Mamoru was at his wit's end when his son—his son, dear kami he was a father—cooed: the first sound he has ever made ever since coming to this damned world amidst a war, a war his child would have to thrive in or succumb.

His Kakashi was a little thing, born half a month too early and without the proper materials needed for a smooth birth, shivering in his threadbare blanket and still reeking of blood and fluids. But his dark, unseeing eyes slowly opened, and while Mamoru knew that there was little to no chance of Kakashi seeing him (what with the darkness and the fact that babies' visions were awful), for a moment there, he thought his gaze landed on his sire, and Mamoru was struck at the resemblance his eyes had from when his own father introduced him to his first—

Mamoru's eyes widened, and he hurriedly bit his thumb and drew the summoning jutsu on the forest floor.

"Kuchiyose no jutsu!"

A burst of smoke poofed into existence, and before it could settle, a large figure dashed and jumped onto the unsuspecting father.

The proud form of a grey wolf snarled into Mamoru's face, golden eyes narrowed and teeth bared in a mockery of a smile. Mamoru could faintly see the barely there scars hidden underneath his thick fur, but he could smell the agitation and _worryreliefjoyhowdareyou_ pouring out of him like waves as clear as day.

Mamoru smiled.

"Nice to see you, too, Jin."

His partner (other half, animal spirit, soulmate) merely bristled, disbelief and pure annoyance overcoming his initial emotions, and he opened his mouth—no doubt to give him another tongue-lashing—when he stilled and abruptly whipped his head towards where his mate and child were resting.

"You have a _pup_," Jin intoned, tone flat to anyone else but with an undercurrent trepidation and horrified awe that Mamoru heard. "You have a pup."

"Yep."

Jin shot him a glare that spoke volumes.

"Hatake Mamoru, you have a pup and you've only thought of summoning me _now_?"

Mamoru gave him a sheepish grin.

Kakashi cooed.

* * *

.

"Kakashi!"

The five year-old glanced at his current guardian, a teen Hatake with a scar on his left ear and the iconic silver hair visible in only their clan swept to the side, and pointedly looked away to continue his walk.

Hatake Ren sighed and surrendered to shadowing the youngest of (all of) the Hatakes, knowing from personal experience and the many, many stories from the other victims babysitters that the Uchihas would sooner dance the courting dance with the Senjus than there'd be a higher chance of stopping Kakashi when he sets his mind into something.

Kakashi was a genius, everyone knew that. Though, it isn't really all that surprising, considering that his own parents were geniuses in their own right, along with more than half of the Hatake Clan being geniuses or experts in their own fields.

But Kakashi was—how can he put it into words without risking his parents' and Jin's wrath?—a bit more… different than the rest.

It wasn't because he could mould chakra at the young age of three, it wasn't because he could run on water when he was four and a half, and it wasn't because he already secured a summoning contract with the dogs just two months ago either.

("He is an old soul," Hatake Kaede murmured from where he stood beside the topic's parents and Ren, watching his tiny form all but envelop the brown pug into an embrace too emotional and smelled of lovejoyreliefthankkamiyou'realiveyou'realiveyou'realive to be normal.

The Clan Head smiled, then. Eyes twinkling knowingly with wisdom gained throughout the years.

"And he will bring change to this clan. For better, or for worse.")

Looking at him now, already going through advanced katas with the unwavering determination usually seen in a man in the front fields, Ren couldn't help but think that maybe, just maybe, their Clan Head's words do have some merit in them.

Then Kakashi gets distracted by a passing butterfly, and Ren wonders why he even thought of such a far-fetched idea.

* * *

.

Fujiko smiles at the sight of her own flesh and blood running around in the makeshift training field behind their compound, Pakkun trailing after him with Bull and Urushi following behind, the latter holding up a dejected Bisuke between her mouth.

It was a scene Fujiko wished to imprint in her mind, because while she didn't have the infamous Sharingan in her grasp, she could commit their scents into memory.

The smell of the earth fresh from last night's rain, her pup's splash of cinnamon and green tea leaves, Pakkun's floral scent from having just taken a bath, Bull and Urushi's tree-like smell from training in the deeper woods with her husband, and little Bisuke's milky scent seeing as he was only a few months old.

Yes, Fujiko wanted this to continue, wanted every morning to be filled with games disguised as training regimes as her dearest Kakashi blew their minds away and exceeded their expectations.

But the war is cruel, and only growing with each season that ended.

Soon, it would reach their territory, unheeding the countless threats and warnings her kinsmen had left with each corpse in their wake.

"Mama?"

Fujiko blinked, looking down at her son (how had she not notice his _chakra_?) and seeing her white knuckles fisting the hem of her yukata's sleeve. Kakashi and his summons' gazed up at her with fathomless pits of black that shone with knowledge every child born in war had, and she could feel her chest constrict as she mustered up a smile.

"Do you want mama to teach you how to play with the clan's special _chakra_?"

Watching Kakashi's eyes brighten with unadulterated glee and anticipation, Fujiko felt her smile become more genuine, and resolutely vowed to shield him from the terrors of the Uchiha-Senju War.

* * *

.

Kakashi was packing his things when a knock sounded from the doorframe of his room, and he turned around to see his caretaker, more scars littering his face but eyes still the same.

The same eyes filled with sorrow and regret as _fearresignationdetermination_ wafted from him.

"Finally going to the battlefields, huh?"

Kakashi nodded mutely, mask securely hiding half of his face. Ren didn't see the point of it, he was the only Hatake that wore such a mask and thus would be easily picked apart from the sea of his fellow clasnmen, but there was something familiar in the younger Hatake's eyes when he saw it during their runs to a nearby village for supplies, and had bought it on the whim.

(He would forever remember the way the corners of Kakashi's eyes crinkled in happiness, for once looking like the child his body indicated he was)

"Ren-san,"

The aforementioned male was brought out of his musings, and he smirked at the deadpan expression on his kouhai's masked face.

Grinning, he ruffled the ten year-old's hair, earning a squawk of indignation from the unnecessary treatment, and tried to bury the dread that coiled around his stomach.

"Well then! Onward, march!"

* * *

.

"I made a friend today."

Mamoru glanced at his son in surprise, before apprehension rose.

They were in the Eastern parts of the Land of Fire, and the closest living settlement there was—

"He was an Uchiha, but didn't act like one," Kakashi continued, as if he didn't just admit to interacting with a potential enemy and threat to the Pack. "He was really stupid."

Mamoru opened his mouth to say a few words, maybe admonish him for being so careless or apathetic with the situation, but then he noticed the uncharacteristic softness in his son's eyes, and stayed silent as they ate their rations in peace.

When he followed his son in one of his meetings with the Uchiha, it was to the sight of two boys amicably sitting on a cliffside, the dark-haired boy arguing loudly about something to which Kakashi merely laughed at.

He didn't need an Uchiha's eyes to see that they were close, shoulder to shoulder and without a care with the clan marks proudly stitched on their backs for everyone to see.

(He just didn't know how close they were, until his son came back home, bloody and holding a child he had claimed as his, left eyes spinning impossibly with the infamous _Sharingan_.

And he mourned for the boy he could never get to know, mourned for the one who broke down Kakashi's walls and made his place there in his heart)

* * *

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The evening Kakashi came back with a swaddled babe against his heaving chest was eerily reminiscent to the same night he was born to this war-stricken world.

His teammates—Ren, his father, a female named Sora and another, younger male named Nao—were gradually getting worried with each hour Kakashi hasn't come back to their camp.

They had decided to routinely scout the area around them for any hostile confrontations, and it was Kakashi's turn after his father had come back. Usually, they would go in pairs, but Kakashi insisted they stay at camp with a look that was all his mother's and very calmly reminded them that he had Pakkun and his other ninken to fall back to if he did engage in battle.

Ren was halfway standing when the irony tang of blood entered their senses, and heard the trudging footsteps of someone coming closer.

Before anyone of them could do so much as pull out their respective weapons, Pakkun bursted from the foliage and barked a hasty, "Don't move!"

Confused, they did as they were told (Pakkun was practically second-in-command, no matter what Ren said), and wondered why exactly the pug looked so harried and stressed.

Then Kakashi soon showed up, and Mamoru fought the urge to weep.

Because he didn't need words to know the tragedy that happened, didn't need to ask where the burns on his arms came from and where the blood on half his body originated.

The red-and-black eye crying out crimson tears was answer enough, and the bundled treasure held oh so closely to his chest only made the loss so much more evident.

(The smell of sweets and charcoal clung on Kakashi like a ghost, and nobody dared to do anything about it lest the beast that was in every Hatake come out of the grieving teen.

Mamoru only wished he could know the name of that Uchiha, the name of his son's _mate_)

* * *

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(They didn't see the way Kakashi cradled the sleeping babe in his shaking arms, didn't see the way Pakkun sniffed and whined over the child and his Alpha with exasperated fondness.

Didn't hear the whisper the lone Hatake breathed into the silent, July dawn.

"Stupid Uchihas… of course you'd be with Obito. Isn't that right, my cute little genin?")

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**A/N: Hi, there! I'm NotYourDamsel, and this is my first fanfic here in ! I have other fanfics under the same name in , so check them out if you're curious! Ignore the shameless advertising hahahaha. You guys don't know how much I've always wanted to post my fanfics here.**

**Constructive criticism and reviews (both good and bad) are welcome! See you (hopefully soon) in the next chappie!**


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